


dangerous

by lindigo



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Hair-pulling, Morning After, Rough Kissing, not really explicit but theres a lot of implied stuff, there isnt enough drummerwolf out there my dudes, this is a problem and im working to rectify it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-14 00:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindigo/pseuds/lindigo
Summary: Amanda and Martin have fun for a night.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a frankly ridiculous time when Amanda and Martin stumble into a dark room, together, in a fumbling mess. Behind them, from beyond the open door, the heavy bass of club music drums, so loud that it buzzes through Amanda’s bones. She’d probably close the door behind them, if she weren’t so distracted.

Martin handles her roughly but she likes it that way, with his lips crushed against hers in a furious kiss and his hands placed firmly on her hips as he maneuvers them until they hit a surface and she’s hoisted up onto a dresser - for a second, she wonders where it came from and decides she doesn’t care, not now. He breaks away to nuzzle at her neck and she laughs dumbly at the feeling of his bristly beard scratching at her skin. Amanda can feel those beers from earlier that night soaking into her – not enough for her to be drunk but just enough that she’s giggly which she would be embarrassed about if it hadn’t just snagged her a make-out session with her favourite wolf-man.

‘Having fun?’ he rumbles against her throat and Amanda snorts.

‘Don’t sound so smug,’ she drags his head back by the roots of his hair, eliciting a delicious growl that makes something low in her stomach curl with with pleasure. ‘C’mon. You’ll have to try harder than that.’

‘That so?’ He stares at her through half-lidded eyes and Amanda feels a lovely shiver run up her spine. She loves that heady feeling that always comes when Martin shows her he wants her. His voice seems level and controlled, just like he always wants it to be, but she knows him well enough by now to notice how that rasp in his voice signals his desire, how his fingers press into the sliver of bare skin at her hip, distracted and indulgent. She cards her fingers through his white hair, shamelessly drinking in how his eyes seem to shine in the dim light, how she can see the definition of muscle through his shirt now that he’s discarded his jacket. Impatient, he butts his head against hers, their lips inches apart. ‘Anything in mind, drummer girl?’ he mutters huskily.

Amanda hums appreciatively as she feels his hand slip under her shirt to rub slow circles into the dip of her back. Experimenting, she tugs at his hair again, hard, and this time his breath catches, a sharp gasp that sinks seamlessly into a breathless, low chuckle.

‘You’re dangerous, drummer,’ he whispers and she’d be lying if she said that didn’t just make her ego soar.

‘Just the way you like it,’ she replies, far too smug, and that’s when Martin captures her lips with another bruising kiss.

His kisses always leave her breathless and this one is no exception. Martin’s rough and intense and hungry and somehow, its overwhelming but totally in the best way possible. Amanda curls under the weight of him, her hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt and she moans into it, revelling in the way his grip at her hip tightens imperceptibly, the way he makes that gruff, gravelly sound at the back of his throat that she could listen to forever. They break away for air, panting, and she doesn’t let him get a word out (he’s going to gloat, the damn flirt) before she drags him back in with a hand at his nape. He’s hungry like he’s starving, but Amanda can match him in turn and that’s what makes it exhilarating. She bites his lip playfully and it seems to set him off because now Martin’s pressing against her so that her back is completely flat against the wall, one hand squeezing her thigh tight and the other creeping up her side. Teasing, she jerks her head away and he follows her back. 

‘Hey,’ Amanda pants and god, is that her voice? Really? She sounds like a blushing virgin, dammit. 

‘Mm,’ Martin grunts and, underneath her shirt, his fingers play with the strap of her bra. ‘We’re a bit past introductions, drummer.’ 

‘Dick,’ she laughs, being the giggly bitch that she is, and sighs, her hand cradling Martin’s head. His mohawk is all mussed up from her antics and it’s so unfair that he manages to look as hot as ever (if not more) even with what looks like a bird’s nest sat on his head. He eyes her thoughtfully and the pressure at her hip relents. Damn it. She misses it already. 

‘You alright?’ he whispers. 

‘What do you think?’ 

‘Don’t matter what I think, drummer,’ and he leans back on his haunches. ‘What do you want?’ 

Amanda’s legs bend around the backs of his knees and she jerks him forward until there’s only an inch of space between them. She cocks an eyebrow deviously. 

‘Get the idea?’ she says and he shrugs, mischievous. 

‘Wouldn’t mind a refresher.’ Amanda rolls her eyes, her hands roaming down from his nape to smooth over his back, his shoulders, his arms. 

‘I want this,’ she tells him and he grins. ‘Now shut up and kiss me more.’


	2. Chapter 2

Amanda wakes up groggy with sleep crusting at her eyes. Greyish light spills in through the sheer curtains at the window and it’s blinding, making her scowl in annoyance. As her mind wakes up with the rest of her body, her gaze lands upon Martin who stands at the foot of the bed, clad only in a pair of grey boxers.

 

Mm.

 

Shameless, Amanda finds her lips curling into a smile at the sight of fresh claw marks running down his back. She can still remember the way he’d groaned into her skin, a strained half-curse, with his fingers clenching down on the headboard above so hard she could hear the wood creak. Martin, now in real-time, glances at her and smirks, having caught her in the act.

 

‘Mornin’,’ he says in his southern-drawl and he literally could not be smugger. ‘How’s the view?’

 

Amanda rolls her eyes and yawns, stretching her arms up over her head. She’s still naked (although the blankets cover most of the fun stuff) and she revels in how Martin follows her with his eyes. ‘Grey,’ she says and he chuckles. ‘How late is it?’

 

‘Late enough. Bathroom’s that way,’ he gestures to the door at her right. Its paint is peeling off at the sides and she blows out an exasperated huff.

 

‘What’s the verdict on the shower?’ she asks, beginning to extricate herself from her blanket cocoon. Martin leans down to toss over her clothes that smell suspiciously like smoke and flare-gas. A neon blue paintball splat adorns her jacket and she gives it an appraising look. Last night must’ve been crazy.

 

‘Hot water don’t work but it’s clean enough,’ Martin says as he shuffles on his trousers. Amanda watches him for a second before she calls out, ‘C’mere, would you?’

 

Once he’s near enough, Amanda drags him down with a hand at his nape for a sweet, slow kiss. She’s not searching for anything more than just the affection at the moment and it’s ridiculously pleasant, having his warm lips slotted against hers, comfortable and leisurely in the morning light. Martin smooths his hand over her shoulder and she sighs into him, smiling. After a few seconds, she breaks the kiss but they linger, breathing in each other’s space, and she laughs.

 

‘Ugh,’ she pulls a face jokingly. ‘Morning breath.’

 

‘Left the mints in the van,’ he lazily tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes unfocused and his voice low. Amanda cocks her head flirtatiously.

 

‘Something to remember for next time,’ she murmurs. Then, in one quick motion, she pats him briskly on his shoulders, haphazardly bundles up her clothes, and brushes past him into the bathroom. A second later, his soft, bemused laughter reaches her ears.

 

\--

 

Martin’s right – the hot water decidedly does not work, no matter how hard you grapple and swear at the shower knob. The water’s a freezing cold barrage and the bite of it wakes Amanda up like a sucker punch, leaving her gasping in shock. It’s the fastest shower she’s ever had – within three minutes she’s yanking the curtain aside and stumbling out like a drowned, hypothermic rat. The towels hanging on the rack are definitely worse for wear but they don’t look diseased-ridden and soon enough, Amanda’s wiping the cold out of her skin and shrugging on her clothes. It’s only as she’s passing the scratched mirror on her way out that she pauses and looks at herself.

 

‘Whoa.’

 

It’s all she can say at this point. Hickeys have been peppered all over her neck, her collar and the purpling flushes of colour stand out clearly against her skin. Her lips look completely _abused_ , swollen and red and so utterly _fucked_ and she can’t even remember the last time she’s looked like this. It’s as she’s examining them in the mirror that the memories come back in full force –

 

_-Martin drags his teeth across her collarbone and she whines in anticipation underneath him, making soft pleading sounds that become a strangled cry the moment he bites down –_

‘Hey.’

 

Martin leans against the open door to the bathroom, one eyebrow quirked up in interest. He’s no longer shirtless but the redness in Amanda’s cheeks only grows.

 

‘Reminiscin’?’ he asks, his eyes blatantly latched onto the string of marks blooming across her neck. Amanda lifts up the bottom of her top to reveal bruises pressed into her hips and –

 

_-and Martin’s grip on her is deliciously tight, as if it’s the only thing keeping him from losing control, and then she gasps some brazen plea into his ear, dragging out of him groan that cuts off half-way through – god, he makes the best sounds - and the next thrust makes spots flash in her vision like fireworks-_

 

‘You could say that,’ Amanda says and she tugs her shirt down again. ‘These’ll take a while to fade, huh.’

 

At that, Martin looks away, sheepish. ‘Sorry about that,’ he mutters.

 

‘Don’t be,’ she says, looking back over her shoulder. ‘It’s hot.’

 

In the seconds that follow, Amanda doesn’t quite stifle a snort at the sight of Martin’s stunned expression.

 

‘Drummer -,’ he begins but she cuts him off with a peck on the lips.

 

‘Thanks for the night, big guy,’ she winks, stepping past him to the door but this time he’s ready for her and he hauls her back by the wrist, spinning her around to pin her against the tiled wall. This kiss is strong and hard and fast – payback? Or maybe a promise for next time. In any case, Amanda grins into it, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking into his embrace. With one last bite at her lip, he pulls away and she pants, just a little bit breathless.

 

‘Was that revenge?’ she manages.

 

‘More like getting the last word.’

 

With that, he shrugs on his jacket and strides out the door. Distracted, Amanda almost misses the way his tongue swipes over his lips.

 

‘Same thing,’ she grumbles and she pushes herself off the wall to join him.

 


End file.
